Today was a brilliant kind of day for making things. For instance, canning twenty-two bottles of garlic dill pickles with my wonderful mum (of course, a post on this is coming soon to a blog near you...or a blog that you are currently reading...either way). It was also the day that for some reason, as I was trying to decide what to make for dinner, the recollection of a most beloved and tasty sandwich popped into my brain. The Sessibonne Sandwich. Now, I first tried this form of deliciousness while living in Montreal. I was going to college there and I lived in an old brownstone, a sweet three story walk up old brownstone, in the grand and bustling downtown of Montreal. I dare say it has been my favourite residence of my life, so far, although not counting the home I grew up in because it really was the best place to grow up and make many splendid and treasured memories. Namely I loved my Montreal home because it was adorable and was located in that most beautiful city but also because on the ground floor of my apartment was a quaint little bakery and sandwich shop. It was, quite literally, my salivation (ridiculously lame pun intended). Early...sunrise early...when I would attempt very earnestly every morning to haul my keister out of my warm bed and get myself to school in a timely (read hoping to be on time) manner, I would always smell the amazing smells that only a bakery can produce at six thirty in the morning. Often I would run down before heading off to the metro, or in some cases the 20 minute walk depending on the clock's hands, and grab a piping hot latte and a fresh pastry of some sort (hello freshman 15...20...ish) and head off to school with a most contented head space. Of course, after school, I would saunter back home and would on a way too consistent basis think to myself "I have absolutely no desire to make dinner this evening and why should I? I live in blasted Montreal, the land of a gozillion genius restaurants." And so, as it would happen, I often popped in for a yummy sandwich, potato salad and pickle before heading up to begin the ever tedious and lacking fun job of homework (it acutally wasn't all that bad - I went to fashion school for pity's sake - I got to look at fashion magazines every week and didn't have to feel guilty about buying them as they were for school). One day, I couldn't decide which sandwich I wanted, as I had already had every blessed sandwich creation they had ever had on their chalkboards. I decided to let the lady with the unidentified-although-I-want-to-say-Italian-or-Greek accent behind the counter decide for me. She said, with an endearing phlegm emphasis on the h, "You like ham?" I answered "Mais oui!" She said "You like the provalone cheeses?" I said "Absolutely!" She said "You like any others kinds of the cheeses?" And I said "I love all cheeses and do not discriminate against any cheeses in the slightest so whatever you think is fine by me!" And lastly she said "You against the drink?" I replied "Ma'am - I'm from the Maritimes. In general, need I say more?" She went to work. She put a bit of butter into a pan and continued by pouring a bit of white wine that came from I don't even know where into the same sauce pan on her little stove top. Then she put three to four slices of ham into the white wine and butter mix. Alrighty. Then she took two giant pieces of bread and put olive oil into another pan and heated and browned both sides of the bread until golden-crisp. Next, she took two slices of provalone and two slices of mozzarella and placed them to the side of her cooking area. She took the bread out of the frying pan, spread butter on both sides and laid them open on a baking pan. She then drained the ham from the white wine frying pan and placed it layer by layer on only one of the bread slices. On top of the ham layers went cheese layers. Lastly, she took a dollop of dijon mustard and a dollop of applesauce and whipped it up into a bowl and then spread it on the empty grilled bread slice. She topped it all off by dancing some cracked pepper from a giant pepper grinder across the top of the cheese. Well ok then, I'm definitely interested, which was good because she already had that mutha ready to go into the oven and really had only to bake it up, melt the cheese and watch me scarf it. It was in the oven for all of about 8 minutes or so and then she took it out, placed it on a ceramic dish with, of course, potato salad and a pickle and opened my world to the best thing ever in sandwich form. I asked her what this masterpiece was called. She said, waving her hands in a pinched format in front of her "No name, just my own idea. What you think - very good?" with a sweet lady smile. I replied "C'est si bon!" She nodded and went back to her little kitchen area a sandwich champion in my mind. I'm sort of in love with the notion of sandwiches...the possibilities in sandwich composition are endless, really. I'm certain the sandwich eventually made its way on to a menu, likely with the wonted name Grilled Ham and Cheese Sandwich On White, but I think Sessibonne is a much more effective name that begs inquiry and then, of course, upon reveal of its ingredients, is likely to get ordered up quite smartly. And so there you have it - the Sessibonne Sandwich. I'm telling you, Europeans add wine to something along with some cheese and literally make the world a better place. I recommend this sandwich at least three times a year! Why three, you ask? I don't know - it's just a number so you don't get tired of it and can truly savour each time you eat it and then get excited for the next time you make it and gobble it down...or maybe it's just me that does that. In any event, enjoy enjoy! The wine brings out brilliant flavours of the ham and the applesauce and dijon spread is pretty spectacular when mincing words with the charms of the cheeses. I would continue to eat this particular sandwich a few times throughout my time at college but quite frankly had forgotten all about it until now. Thank you to my brain-stomach connection for recalling it to memory. It was indeed savoured and enjoyed. Tonight I paired it with a butternut squash bisque. It is delicious and I just had to share it with you all.
Great city, great story, great sandwich!
1: The Sessibonne Sandwich with Butternut Squash Bisque
2: Bread in olive oil - golden crispy
3: Ham and white wine mix
4: Pile on the cheeses (in this case, provelone and havarti)
5: Melted goodness
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